Daniel Padrnos Is Rebuilding Community, One Toast at a Time
Most of us don't need convincing that Seattle has great restaurants. What we might be missing are dinners we're in no hurry to leave.
Daniel Padrnos has spent the last year and a half trying to change that. After traveling across Africa, South America, and the country of Georgia, he came home with a simple question: why do we have to travel halfway around the world to remember what dinner is supposed to feel like?
His answer became Supra Dinner Society — a Seattle nonprofit inspired by the centuries-old Georgian tradition of the Supra: a long, communal feast where food, wine, conversation, and meaningful toasts all share equal importance. At first glance, it sounds like dinner. It isn't. Somewhere around the halfway point, something changes. The phones disappear. Conversations get deeper. Strangers begin talking like they've known each other for years. That's the part Daniel keeps coming back for.
Hospitality as a way of being
Long before Daniel was setting tables in Seattle, he was a volunteer overseas — moved by a nonprofit mission across Africa, South America, and Georgia. What struck him wasn't the sights. It was how people treated each other at the table.
Hospitality in the old world has less to do with a checklist — the pillow on the bed. It's the sincerity and generosity of the host. Simply being with another human being, rather than providing a service.— Daniel Padrnos, Founder, Supra Dinner Society
That shift — from service to presence — is the thing Daniel couldn't shake. In old-world countries, he watched people slow down around tables without being asked. He saw strangers become kin over a shared meal. And then he came back to America and felt the contrast hit him like a wall.
A feast, guided by a Tamada
Americans relax abroad. They linger over dinner in Spain, let meals in Georgia stretch into the evening, stay for one more glass of wine and one more story. Daniel's question was simple: why can't we build that here?
Every Supra is guided by a Tamada, or toastmaster, whose job isn't simply to lead the evening but to create space for everyone at the table to participate. The food is unmistakably Georgian, served family-style and meant to be shared.
The pace is just as intentional. Four hours. No rush.
One dinner, many friends
There's a moment at every Supra, Daniel says, that he can't quite put into words. About halfway through — after the food has been passed, the wine has been poured, and the toasts have moved from the expected to the unexpected — something shifts. People stop performing. The table becomes something else. They come as strangers and become friends.
One recent evening, an Indian family came in — not a group of strangers, but a family celebrating together. They hadn't expected the toasts to reach them the way they did. They ended up sharing stories with the rest of the table they'd never told outside their own walls. Daniel still lights up when he talks about it: "It was really, really sweet."
The demographic at every Supra is different — friends, dates, a 20th wedding anniversary on one side of the table and a solo adventurer on the other. About halfway through, the room shuffles. Conversations restart.
A non-profit that runs on toasts
Supra Dinner Society is a registered 501(c)(3), but Daniel doesn't really describe it as a nonprofit. He describes it as a way to help people reconnect — a place where people from different backgrounds, beliefs, and timezones sit together, hear each other, and leave slightly changed.
Central to that mission is the Tamada — the toastmaster who holds the room, guides the conversation, and sets the tone for the evening. Daniel trains his Tamadas himself: they learn the Georgian toasting tradition and practice leading meaningful toasts. Some go on to host their own.
Food is a vehicle. A Tamada brings people together to truly hear one another. The toasts inspire conversation. The conversation inspires the toasts.— Daniel Padrnos
Driving across the country, collecting toasts
Daniel's building something bigger than one table in Seattle. He wants to partner with wineries and Georgian catering families, bring Supras into restaurants that aren't exclusively Georgian, and host industry Supras — bringing together people from the same field to actually talk to each other for once.
And the movement is spreading on its own. Daniel is getting married this year, and he and his fiancée are driving coast to coast. Along the way they've received 26 invitations from Tamadas and community members they've met through Supra — a honeymoon built entirely of toasts.
People are hungry for a form of connecting that's sincere. I have doubts sometimes. But the table always fills — we've never once had to say, can you shift to next week?— Daniel Padrnos
Community Supra at Glassybaby Madrona
An intimate Georgian feast with guided toasts, unlimited wine, and a table full of strangers about to become friends. Open to the public — seats are released on select Fridays and Saturdays, and they fill fast.




